Illusion
by aquagirl520
Summary: "Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces." Two years into Shinichi and Ran's marriage, the illusion starts to crack. [Shinichi/Ran, Shinichi/Shiho]
1. Chapter 1

Hopefully people still have a vague memory of me on this site. I've been away for so long. I dug this out while organizing files on my laptop and decided to finish it. This is my last DC fanfic. This is my take on what happens between the characters years after the end of DC, which has yet to happen but we all know Gosho isn't granting us a CoAi ending.

**Chapter 1**

_"__Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces." –Sigmund Freud_

_Ne…Shinichi, if this is an illusion, please don't let me see reality._

The clock hanging beside the refrigerator reads 6:00 PM. It is just starting to get dark outside. I switch the light on with my elbow, careful not to spill the bowl of batter in my hands. Holding my breath, I arrange spoonfuls of batter onto the buttered pan in careful, perfectly round dollops that is to be tonight's dessert.

With that done, I go to wash my hands, to begin chopping up the vegetables for tonight's meal. My hands shake as I line up the carrots on the chopping block. I try to prevent my anxiety from showing, and keep my thoughts on the tasks at hand, but it's hard not to pay attention to the conversation coming from the next room.

"-Are you calling from the plane then? When… no don't bother, I'll go- no really, it's not out of the way…" I can hear Shinichi arguing with her over the phone as he pace back and forth in the living room. "…No, I insist… It's settled, I'll meet you at the airport then, Shiho."

Shiho is coming back to Beika for the first time since she left for America three years ago. She's back in Japan to speak at a lecture at the University of Tokyo. The university had offered her a five-star suite, but Shinichi and Agasa Hakase had persuaded her to stay the night with us instead.

Shinichi has been different since she finally agreed. Nothing in his routine changed, but I can tell. I can always tell.

It's in the way he seemed more talkative at the dinner table, the way he saved the email she sent him with details of her schedule and kept reopening it as if counting down the days, like a child anticipating Christmastime.

I bite my lower lip and try to steady my shaky hold on the knife. I look down at the perfect squares the carrots have turned into, and felt the corner of my lips turn up in a pained smile. I am so careful today, almost to a point of paranoia. I try to tell myself that it is because there will be a guest at dinner tonight, but deep down… deep down I know that in a silly way, I am trying to prove something. That I take care of him, that we're the perfect, model family…

…That there is nothing, or no one, that can make him happier.

Shinichi has been cheerful ever since he woke up this morning, getting up hours earlier than usual and even making breakfast. He went around the house finding chores to do, like he couldn't sit still. Sonoko would tell me to be happy that he is helping out around the house, unlike Makoto-san, whom she is always complaining about. But how can I feel happy, seeing the joy that seemed to radiate from him because of her?

Then again, shouldn't I be glad for his sake that his best friend is coming to visit?

I know how much he misses her. The first few weeks after she left, he'd still call Agasa Hakase's place whenever a case came up. I know that when he finds a clue and turns around eagerly it's not me he wants to share his findings with. I know he rushes to the computer every day, expectant of another letter from her.

I've read his letters to her. I know I shouldn't have, but curiosity got the better of me, and who can blame me for being curious?

He would describe to her the cases he was on, focusing on the details he knew would interest her. She writes back offering her thoughts, along with accounts of her work with the FBI. They'd recommend books to one another, debate over different views…

There were no words of longing, as if so blatantly uncovering the fact that they miss each other would make it too unbearable.

Sometimes he stares off into space, and I know that during those moments, he's not in here, not in the house we've shared for two years, but in the FBI's lab, puzzling with her the case she's working on, analyzing the suspects from her descriptions.

"Hey," Shinichi greets, putting his cellphone away as he steps into the kitchen. I try to shake myself from my thoughts.

He reaches for the leftover batter in the abandoned bowl; I swat his hand away.

He laughs; arms encircling me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. I smile, leaning into the embrace and I almost, _almost _feel that he's completely here.

"It's starting to snow," He remarks, looking out the window. I glance up to see the lawn dusted with a layer of fresh snow, thin like a sprinkling of powdered sugar.

"You used to scare me with the story of the Snow Witch when we were little, remember?" I ask.

He chuckles. "You were too easily scared."

We stay like this. I lose myself in the rhythm of his breathing, counting the rises and falls of his chest as I work.

He speaks just as I finish preparing the vegetables.

"Ran?"

"Hmm?"

"Where do we keep the spare blankets? I don't know if the blankets in the guest bedroom will be warm enough."

My heart falls. Is that why he brought up snow?

"I'll go get it." I say, finding it hard to keep my smile in place.

"I'll get it, you're busy with dinner." He offers.

"No, you should be getting dressed. Shiho's flight should be coming in soon." I say, wondering if he can sense the flatness of my voice.

He doesn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I can hear their voices even before they step inside the house. I can't hear the details of their conversation, but I don't remember the last time he's talked about something so enthusiastically.

I brace myself, getting up to open the door.

"Welcome," I say. I cringe at how falsely cheery I sound.

"Long time no see," Shiho says.

Her hair has grown out into beautiful waves. She is wearing a long black overcoat and a scarlet scarf. Simple, nothing over-designed, but they accentuate her slim form so well that she looks almost unearthly pretty. I bite my lip, feeling almost childish in my lace-trimmed apron in comparison.

"Come in, I'll show you to the guest bedroom."

"Thank you for having me," Shiho replies with a smile.

She looks around as she steps inside, and I can tell from the sudden flicker in her eyes that she sees what I was trying to prove, with the fastidiously tidied house and photographs hanging on the walls. She sees at once what Shinichi had failed to notice. Her gaze lingers on the photographs almost wistfully.

"You have a lovely home." She says finally. "Kudo-kun is very lucky."

She says it so earnestly that I fail to feel the sense of small triumph I'd expected to feel.

Shinichi barely pays attention to the meal before him as he describes his recent cases to Shiho. But she notices. She sees through the carefully crafted dinner, just as she had noticed my efforts around the house. She looks at me hesitantly for a split second, before Shinichi asks her about her thoughts on a high-profiled case, and gets her attention once more.

I am losing in this silent, self-imposed competition. She matches all my efforts by simply being here.

He offers to help with the dishes after dinner. "I'll take care of it," I say. "You and Shiho have a lot of catching up to do, ne?"

"Thanks!" He grins, and dashes off after giving me a quick peck on the cheek.

Scatters of conversation can be heard from the study as I put the dishes away. The sliding door to the study is closed, but there is a slit in one of the paper panes on the door -the result of one of Agasa Hakase's fail invention- that we never bothered to fix. It allows a view of the entire study. With the same trepidation I felt when I went through Shinichi's email, I tip-toe to the door to peek inside.

They sit side by side, close enough for me to feel that dreaded twinge of jealousy, yet far enough for me to feel ridiculous about making a fuss over it. Shiho is absent-mindedly flipping through a three-ring binder –her material for the lecture, no doubt- as they exchange conversations.

"Jody-sensei says that you're writing in your spare time?" Shinichi asks, flipping a page for her. "She says a publisher visited your lab to talk about a mystery novel."

Shiho tilts her head to give him a sidelong look. She stays silent for awhile, before she sighs and mutters, "Figures she'd tell you, the nosy woman."

Shinichi laughs. Shiho closes the binder and sits up straight to look at him. "It's nothing the son of the famous writer Kudo Yusaku should be impressed with." She says. "I based the stories off cases we solved."

"Like Dr. Watson recording the cases he and Sherlock Holmes solved." Shinichi says, grinning.

Shiho rolls her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. Besides, it's just 'based on' the case. It's not like your name's written all over it."

"Can I read it?" He asks.

She reaches for her purse to fish out a USB drive. She hesitates as she hands it to him, and I almost think that she will pull her hand away before he takes it. I bite my lip. The moment when their hands touch as the drive changes hands lasts just a second too long.

Shiho resumes reading her papers nonchalantly as Shinichi plugs the drive into his laptop. I can tell, though, from the way she glances at him every few seconds that she is as restless as I am.

"So that's how we met? Intern forensic scientist with the police… well, Inspector Megure did say he'd love to have you work with them."

"It's a work of fiction, Kudo. And if I'd written down the account of how we first met, people would think the story absurd." She says, and Shinichi laughs in agreement. Giving up on her papers, Shiho shifts so that she can read over his shoulder.

Shinichi makes occasional remarks on the character's interactions, but mostly the read in silence.

The story that is about them, but not really.

"It's that case in Hokkaido, isn't it?" Shinichi says, smiling in reminiscence as he scrolled down a few pages. "I can't believe how many people really believed that a monster was killing those people. It's just like- "

"- The Hounds of Baskerville." They say in unison. She laughs. "Can't resist comparing yourself to Holmes, can you, tantei-san?"

"You're a lot nicer to me in the book." He replies with a pout. She laughs.

He resumes reading, but his expression is different now, less curious amusement and more…

… I can't bear to finish the thought.

"I remember that snowstorm." He says softly. "I thought we'd be trapped in that cabin forever-" He falters, and the way he looked at her made my heart clench.

"It's a work of fiction." Shiho stresses again in a quiet voice. "They are just two characters."

The way he looks at her makes my heart ache. I cannot discern all the emotions hidden behind his eyes: sorrow, longing, pain… even love?

I should leave. I should stop watching, or I won't be the same tomorrow. But I can't. It's like I've grown roots and is immobilized. And perhaps it's already too late.

"Ai…"

She flinches at the name. "They are just two characters, Kudo. It would never have happened like that. The publishers wanted something more than the mystery, to sell the book, that's all. " She looks around, at the photographs hung on the walls, and takes a deep, shaky breath. "This is what's best. …They could never have it like this."

He moves his hand as if he wanted to reach for her, but she shakes her head. She looks like she is about to cry. "We're not… anymore…" Her voice is so small I couldn't hear her clearly.

Shinichi says something, but I can no longer hear him over the pounding of my own heart.

He hastily changes the subject. The conversation turned towards the kids, now starting junior high and still solving mysteries around the neighborhood, and Agasa Hakase, who still organizes camping trips every now and then.

I back away from the door like I am in a trance. I stand there, motionless, until the door slid open and I jump, looking around hurriedly to see if there's anything I can pretend to be doing nonchalantly. But it's too late.

"Good night, Kudo-" Shiho freezes when she sees me. I can tell from the look in her eyes that she knows. She opens her mouth, but I beat her to the chase.

_Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead…_

"You're going to bed already?" I ask quickly, the falsely cheerful tone creeping up again.

"Yes. Um… Ran-san, I-"

"-Good night, then. If you need anything don't hesitate to ask." I interrupt.

…_We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces…_

I will keep that reality at bay.

"I… well… thank you. And again, thank you for letting me stay." Swallowing whatever explanation or apology I know is on the tip of her tongue, she says finally.

I watch her go upstairs, and then I flee, before Shinichi can see me.

Before I can see him.

The clock hanging beside the refrigerator reads 6:00 PM. The air is filled with the smell of roast chicken. Slipping my oven mitts on, I pull the chicken from the oven to baste. Scents of lemon and herbs rushed out with the heat of the oven. The skin had turned a beautiful golden brown. Perfect.

I hear the key turn and the front door open.

"I'm home." Shinichi says, hanging up his coat before coming into the kitchen. "Smells delicious."

_Life goes on as usual._

We share a kiss. "How's the case?" I ask.

He goes on about the yet to be solved murder, inconsistencies in the evidence, the suspects, and his theories.

_Shiho is on the plane back to America. _

"I'm sure you will solve it by the end of tomorrow." I say, smiling. I wish I have more to say than that. I wish I can be more than an awed audience to his deduction skills.

"Help me set the table," I say. I look into the dining area and see the photographs lined on the walls, each with the two of us smiling brightly.

_Life goes on as usual._

_An illusion._

A/N: The inspiration for this story comes from a tale about the two Chinese poets from the Tang dynasty, Bai Juyi and Yuan Zhen, who were lifelong friends that were long separated because they were exiled by the government. It's said that Yuan Zhen visited Bai Juyi and stayed the night once, and they stayed up all night in the study. Curious about what they are talking about, Bai Juyi's wife wet the paper window, breaking it to look inside, and marveled that what they had is true bond.

I didn't want to spoil anything, but here's a bit of background of the story for those interested: Ai made the antidote successfully, but the two of them still had to live in hiding until the organization is taken down. During that time they were in a brief relationship, one she broke off when they eradicated the last of the syndicate's influence. She solved cases alongside him as his partner for a few years, and after Shinichi and Ran got married she accepted a job with the FBI and moved to America.

And this is me officially signing off from this fandom. I apologize for any unfinished work and anyone who is interested in completing them can send me a message.


End file.
